Name– Aloevera Lerín (nickname Vera)

Myth —  yes, Vera is a gusli, but because she was made from a magic birch tree she has the power to become human for short periods of time.

Age – ageless, although she often acts childishly. She became what she is now ten years ago in human time. She does change, but she does not grow old the way humans do. 

Appearance – When not human, she is gusli. As a human, she has pale skin, deep green eyes, and two pale brown braids. When you first see her, you will not think her face is beautiful, for her mouth is wide, her nose, large and misshapen, does not lack pimples, while perhaps her most striking feature is the enormity of her ears. But once you  get to know her, you wil soon share her disregard for appearances.

Personality – Wise, yet often childish. She is very tough and she is ready for anything, not always thinking through things ahead of time. Things affect her deeply and she does not forget easily. 

Other – Her best friend is a balalaika, named Lala, who can take the shape of a goose. Lala often lets Vera ride on her back, but only when they are both in their animate forms. Lala and Vera were actually made from the same tree, so you can think of them as sisters. And they can share thoughts without speaking because they came from the same tree. This tree grew on an island in the middle of Lake Baikal, but this island has since then sunk beneath the waves and the ice.

.:Storm:. 

I rolled my eyes at the girl - Frost was her name, I remembered - and stepped closer. She couldn't have been more naïve. I spoke impatiently slowly, as if I was explaining something to a toddler.

"Angels need their feathers to survive. To live. You stole a feather from an angel. The angel died. Therefore, you killed her. Get the picture?"

Frost's eyes welled with shiny tears as she trembled. "What was her name?" she whispered softly, her voice hoarse.

"Rain. She died ten years ago. You should know that," I snapped. "There are ceremonies in her honor. The angels are forced to attend them."

"I - I just needed - the feather for my -" Frost choked out.

"Save it," I ordered, cutting her off. "Trust me, I've heard the stories. You were soooooo scared for your baby sister, weren't you? What about Rain? She was three years old. Three! She was weak. Defenseless. And you just..." I stopped suddenly, a lump forming in my throat. I glanced away.

Frost blinked, obviously taken aback. "Are you okay?" she began to ask gently.

"I'm fine," I muttered. "As if I'd want your help anyway."

"Storm, I'm sorry," Frost pleaded. "I promise. I had no idea that I'd harmed Rain. Chyll was dying and..."

"Chyll was dying. Poor you. Well, guess what? Rain's dead. Forever. And you're responsible." I spun on my heel and wiped a tear off of my cheek as I walked off.

"Storm! I said I was sorry!" Frost shouted.

I whipped around, pure fury in my eyes. "Sorry is for when you take someone's cookie, Frost. Not for when you take their life. We can talk when you learn how to live in the real world." I felt more tears coming on, and I sprinted off, my white dress fluttering behind me.

I didn't look back, but the image of Frost behind me was still etched into my brain. I wanted to erase it. 

''Storm, run!'' I said, from the tree. Storm flew up, not asking questions, 

Sorry, gotta go, I'll write the rest later! 

~Redcap~

For the first time in a long while, I am tempted to stray from the path while Running. There are sounds of a scuffle, ice magic, and shouting in two languages, one of them Sylvan and one I don't recognize. The temptation is short-lived, however, for the sounds come to me rather than vice versa; a gigantic twig blight comes barreling out of the brush, not ten feet in front of Comet's nose! He rears, neighing in terror. He's a brave horse, but a twig blight all sudden-like is enough to scare anyone. I hardly realize my off-hand short sword is out and ready, so natural is the movement of drawing it. 

Then I spot the frozen shrubbery on the twig blight's vile rear end and realize who was doing the Sylvan yelling. A half-elf explodes out of the trees, clad in such a way that it's clear she's a druid, wooden staff blazing with icy blue light. I can hear the twig blight cursing as it flees away to my left. The druidess screeches to a halt in the center of the path, shaking a fist and shouting something in Sylvan that loosely translates to "And don't come back!!" (with a nasty adjective deleted). Then she notices Comet and her eyes go wide. I manage to rein him in just in time. I sheathe my sword, not wanting to come across as hostile to someone who could slam me in an ice blobk at any given moment.

It is then that I notice the faint, glistening tear-tracks on her face. 

Am I too late to join? If I'm not, here's my form:
Name: Caterina Bellclaws

Myth: Yes, Half-blood.

Age: 13

Appearance: Human-shaped body, but with cat ears, cat mouth, and a cat tail. Her body is covered with black fur, and she has razor-sharp claws and teeth. She has yellow eyes, and she has REALLY light blonde hair. She wears a torn-up pink and purple dress with leggings, and she has sneakers.

Personality: Shy, curious, intelligent, catious, quick, agile, loving, and loyal.

Other: It seems impossible, but Caterina's mother was a cat, and her father was a human. That's all she knows about them. Her mother died when having her, because since she was half human, she was too big. A year later, her father died in a car crash, leaving Caterina on her own. She constantly is running away from zoos and scientists who want her so that they can become famous.

Abilities: She has cat claws and teeth, agility, speed, hunting skills, instinct, and she always land on her feet.

"Hail!" Frost bowed deeply, sweeping her hand on the ground in a gesture of respect.

"I'm sorry, I know it's rude to pry, but were you..."

"Yes, I was crying. I just found out I-" Frost's voice cracked a bit, "accidentally killed a child."

The rider bowed her head. Suddenly they both straightened up as Storm came barreling out of the brush, yelling. 

~Redcap~

I bow my head, saying a wordless prayer to the Silent God for the child's soul. It snaps up again at at the sound of more footsteps. Sprinting, two-legged gait, making no attempt to be quiet. This time it's a Magetouched! Half-blooded cat from the looks of it, and judging by her expression, she's being chased. She stops, breath coming in short ragged gasps. "Oh thank the Piper, you're a Runner aren't you, I order you as a member of the King's Service to protect me!" 

I am surprised already, and this makes my eyebrows jump nearly off my face. Firstly, I had no idea there were still any Magetouched folk this far south. Secondly, why would she be knowing about that whole King's Service thing? It's so antiquated, and everyone knows we'll Run as a sacred duty whether or not they invoke the King. It's gotten so it's considered impolite to do it now. But this isn't a message, it's protection! And what about the Baroness? What about the sealed packet of parchment she paid me to deliver to Hedgerow Village?

And as if that isn't enough, the angel appears to be furious with the druid. Everybody is shouting now. The druid and the angel are shouting at each other, the cat Magetouched is shouting at me...and over everything, I can hear a great crashing of bush and fallen sticks cracking. Not close, but coming closer, much too fast for my liking. I can see the cat-girl detect it too; she abruptly stops yelling and turns back the way she came, ears flat back and her face a mask of terror. I decide to take direct action. As loudly as I possibly can, I yell, "EVERYBODY BE QUIET!!"

The angel and druid quit fighting and look at me expectantly. I extend a hand to the cat-girl and heave her up on Comet behind me. Whether or not she was going to Hedgerow Village before, she's going there now. "Okay. Listen up. There's been someone chasing her"- I indicate the cat-girl- "and we need to get out of here. I have to protect her, and like as not whoever's on her trail wouldn't much like you two either. I'm following this path here; you do whatever you like." With a cluck and a nudge, I urge Comet into a trot, then a canter, not caring whether the druid and the angel follow me or not.